She seemed to think of them only, how she could manage to care for them—the woman with fire in her coppery hair and with lips that were soft and pink without lipstick or guile—the woman with the scent the set his desire humming.
How could he explain to anyone how much he had wanted to bring her home to meet his family?
How could he explain, when he didn't understand himself, the bed to fasten his lips to hers and feed the passion within him?
In the distance, Deadman's Rock soared in the sunset, black and deadly, reminding Jarek of the love he'd lost. Then he saw a small figure in the distance, huddled against the wind and rain.
Nothing could have kept him from making his way to her.
Leigh didn't acknowledge him as he walked by her side moving slightly to shelter her from the full blast of the cold wind. She looked like a child in the overlarge, cheap plastic raincoat, the hood hiding her face.
